


angels warned me never to fall down

by hawksonfire



Category: Marvel
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awesome Clint Barton, BAMF Clint Barton, Big Dick Clint Barton, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Boys Kissing, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint rescues him, Deaf Clint Barton, Dirty Talk, HYDRA takes Bucky hostage, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019, Mutual Pining, Overstimulation, POV Clint Barton, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Steve Rogers, Top Clint Barton, competent clint barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22055206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire
Summary: “What’s got steam coming out of your ears?” Bucky asks, scootching closer on the couch. His toes are tucked under Clint’s thigh now, which is unfairly distracting.“Just thinking,” Clint answers, taking another sip of his coffee.“About what?”“You,” Clint’s mouth answers with no input from his brain, and goddammit mouth, not again. He winces.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 36
Kudos: 257
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019





	angels warned me never to fall down

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[FANART] angels warned me never to fall down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22092322) by [pietray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pietray/pseuds/pietray). 

> Woo! We made it, y'all! So, funny story. I picked this as one of my projects for NaNo 2019, thinking that it would take the whole month for me to finish it. Surprise - I was completely finished the fic by November 6, and was then just like "??? what do" so that's how that went. I had so much fun working with Misha for this RBB, and their art is **_gorgeous!!!_** Please make sure to give them a follow on all the things - links will be in the endnotes!

**Clint**

“Clint, take your hand out of your pants, this is a public space,” Steve scolds as he power walks by on his way to the elevator. 

“Fuck off, Steve, my dick is cold,” Clint retorts, taking another swig out of his coffee mug. Steve makes a face at him but the elevator door closes before Clint can make a face back. 

“Is your dick really cold?” Bucky asks, smirking at Clint. 

“Nah, my thigh was itchy,” Clint explains, pulling his hand out his pants. “But it bugs Steve when he thinks I’m being inappropriate in a common area, so. Bonus.” Bucky mumbles something that Clint doesn’t catch, mostly because he’s too busy thinking that the way Bucky’s got his sweatpants tucked into his socks is futzin’ adorable.

He’s sorta been dancing around admitting his feelings for Bucky to himself for a couple weeks now - Clint’s not so good with feelings. Based on some of the looks Bucky’s given him when he catches Clint staring, he knows full well the depth of Clint’s feelings. Which is weird, because even Clint doesn’t know that. And he’s caught Bucky giving some looks of his own, so if he had to guess he’d say that the feelings are probably mutual.

That’s the problem, though. He’s guessing. Clint _ hates _ guessing. He likes to be ninety percent sure or higher of something before he makes a choice that has the potential to blow up so fantastically in his face. 

“What’s got steam coming out of your ears?” Bucky asks, scootching closer on the couch. His toes are tucked under Clint’s thigh now, which is unfairly distracting.

“Just thinking,” Clint answers, taking another sip of his coffee.

“About what?”

“You,” Clint’s mouth answers with no input from his brain, and goddammit mouth, not again. He winces. 

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow. “What about me?”

“Just... stuff,” Clint says lamely. 

“Stuff.” Bucky sounds amused. “Stuff like, ‘oh gee I really hope Bucky doesn’t realize that I ate the last of his PopTarts’ or stuff like ‘oh gee I really hope Bucky doesn’t ask me to talk about the feelings we’ve been dancing around for weeks.”

Aw, futz. “Mostly the second one,” Clint admits. The tension between them is so thick it would take a chainsaw to get through it, and Clint sees Bucky twitch, like he’s getting ready to swing himself into Clint’s lap - and isn’t that a thought.

“Are we gonna talk about that?” Bucky asks. 

Clint opens his mouth to respond, and then - “All Avengers, please report to the hangar. Wheels up in ten.” 

Bucky groans beside him, and Clint’s halfway to suggesting that neither of them go when Bucky stands and looks at him. Then, quicker than he has any right to be, Bucky darts in and plants a kiss on Clint’s cheek, a barely-there press of lips against the stubble of Clint’s jaw. “Hold that thought, handsome,” Bucky says apologetically. “Looks like we got a world to save.” 

“The world should save itself for once,” Clint grumbles, grumpy that his chance to tell Bucky how he feels has been postponed. He hauls himself off the couch, finishing off his coffee and putting his mug in the sink as he passes it, then follows Bucky down to the locker room. “So, what is it this time, Tony?” He asks as he pulls open his locker. 

“Hydra,” Tony responds. Bucky tenses next to him and Clint reaches out, giving his hand a squeeze. “We’ve been watching this base for a while, thought it might be abandoned, and it just got way too active for an abandoned base.”

“Which base is this?” Bucky asks, pulling his shirt over his head. Clint doesn’t stare. Really, he doesn’t.

“The one that uses an old paper factory as a cover,” Tony says. 

“That tracks,” Bucky nods. “That base always gets active around this time of year. It was one of the only ones in that area, so all the big shipments of shit went through there before getting sent out to all the smaller bases.”

“And you didn’t think of telling us this before?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Bucky shrugs. “I did. Told SHIELD when I came in and they debriefed me. Not my fault they didn’t tell you.” 

Clint finishes getting dressed, pulling his quiver over his head and grabbing his bow. “Yell at SHIELD on the jet, Tony, isn’t this thing time sensitive?”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Tony shoots back, but he heads to the jet. 

Clint catches Bucky’s eye and rolls his own, like ‘get a load of this guy’. Bucky snorts and bumps his shoulder and they walk onto the Quinjet together. “Where’s Steve?” Bucky asks.

“He’s gonna meet us there, Capsicle was already halfway across the city on a run when the call came in,” Tony says absently. He claps Bruce on the shoulder and heads into the cockpit.

“How he gets halfway across the damn city in ten minutes, I will never understand,” Clint mutters.

“Super-soldier,” Bucky points out. 

Clint flaps a hand in the air as the jet takes off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I’m a super-soldier, does that mean you don’t like me?” Bucky asks innocently. Clint swats at him and Bucky laughs. “It’s okay, Barton, I know I’m your favourite.”

“Yeah,” Clint says softly, “You are.” They hold each other’s gaze for a moment longer, the moment snapping when Natasha pokes Clint in the side. 

“Focus,” she says quietly. Clint groans but does as she says, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Clint both hates and loves what he does before a mission. With a low hum, Clint starts to unpack everything that could distract him. He puts aside the list of things he still has to do at the building in Bed-Stuy, tucks his half-formed grocery list into the corner of his mind, and last but certainly not least, places his feelings for Bucky, their impending conversation, and everything he hopes will come out of it to the side, only to be looked at again when the mission is over. 

“Good,” Natasha murmurs when he opens his eyes, tapping his leg twice. She leans back and closes her eyes, and he sits up, keeping watch for her as she did for him. The ride to the base takes an hour, so Clint passes the time by going over the floor plans for the Hydra base and playing cards with Bucky, whining when Bucky somehow manages to beat him every time. 

“Again? Seriously?” Clint says in disbelief. He tosses his cards to the table in disgust. “I should have remembered that you had to learn how to cheat around Steve. What did we say the winner would get again?”

“I’m sure I can come up with something,” Bucky says, biting at his bottom lip. Clint’s eyes are drawn there for only a few seconds before he tears them away. “Go again?” Bucky asks, gathering up the cards. 

“Pass,” Clint says, shaking his head. “See if Tasha wants to play, I’m gonna try and catch a few winks before we get there.” He’s not really, mostly he just wants a few minutes to himself where he can breathe and not be surrounded by Bucky. It’s torture being near him like this and not be allowed to look, to touch, to... well. 

Tasha and Bucky start to play some Russian card game that seems to involve a lot of swearing in Russian and slapping the table, and they’re only brought to a stop when Tony calls out, “ETA ten minutes!” 

Clint starts to check over his bow and ammo, making sure that he’s got all he might need for this mission. Explosive arrow, check. Taser arrow, check. Net arrow, check. He’s only got one grappling hook arrow - he needs to make some more pronto - but he sticks it in his quiver anyway. Never know when one of those might come in handy. “All good here,” he says.

“Everyone locked and loaded and ready to kick some Nazi ass?” Tony asks, faceplate sliding down and locking in place with a _ clank_. 

“I was born ready,” Clint says, making Bucky snort. The jet lands with a shudder and it opens to reveal a fully geared and suited up Steve waiting for them. 

“What took you guys so long?” He asks.

“Can it, Rogers, I saw you pull up on your bike a minute ago,” Tony says.

“Ruining my fun,” Steve pouts. 

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Tasha cuts in. “Can we go kick some Nazi ass now?”

“After you, milady,” Tony says, bowing at Steve.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” Steve simpers, before running off and promptly smashing some guy’s face in with his shield. Tony follows him with a whoop of joy, firing his repulsors left and right. 

“They grow up so fast,” Clint sniffs. 

“Please go and make sure neither of them die,” Bruce sighs.

Bucky laughs, Natasha shakes her head, and then the three of them are off, cutting a swath through the hordes of Hydra agents. “There seem like a lot of them to anyone else?” Clint shouts over the comms after firing an arrow through someone’s eyeball. 

“More like their numbers aren’t getting any smaller,” Bucky reports. 

“I think I know why that is!” Steve yells, grunting. “I don’t think they can feel pain!”

“Fucking shit, that’s creepy as all hell,” Clint mutters, watching the guy who he just stabbed through the stomach get back up and keep coming at him like his guts aren’t hanging out. “Can confirm, these guys don’t feel pain. Gonna have to either kill them or hold them off long enough for their wounds to incapacitate them!” He promptly jams an arrow into the guts-hanging-out guy’s neck, severing his jugular vein and watching him drop almost instantly. 

“Well, there goes my non-lethal streak,” Bucky mutters. Clint snorts. 

“I’m going in,” Clint says, “Gonna see what information I can get before it all gets destroyed.”

“Hawkeye, wait for backup!” Steve shouts, shield singing as it flies through the air. 

“I’m good Cap, you keep these guys busy!” Clint slips inside, the sounds of fighting quickly falling silent as he makes his way through the base. He’s on a catwalk, making his way to the other side of the massive room he’s on when a door swings open below him and several people rush through. 

They’ve got two soldier looking types with them, clad in the same black uniform that the guys Clint was fighting outside were in. They probably can’t feel pain either, Clint thinks. The other three are scientist types, dressed in lab coats. One of them is even holding a clipboard. “We cannot just leave the test subjects here,” one of them hisses. 

Crazy Doctor #2 snatches the clipboard from the one who just spoke - Crazy Doc #1, Clint decides. “We will get more test subjects at the secondary location,” he hisses. 

“These two test subjects are the best ones we’ve had yet,” Crazy Doc #3 interjects. “We may never find another subject who responds to the treatment as well as they do.”

“Keep moving,” Soldier #1 says, “We don’t have much time before they get in here.” They’re nearly halfway across the room by now, but if Clint moves any further to keep up with them he’ll be exposed. They’re walking right underneath a giant skylight that lights up the floor and would reveal his shadow on the floor beneath them. 

“Fine,” Crazy Doc #2 snarls. “You, go get the test subjects from the laboratory, we will take them with us.” He gestures at the second soldier, who nods, mutters something to the other soldier and heads back the way they came.  
  
“I’ve got scientists here,” Clint murmurs over comms. “I could go after them and take them out, or I could go after some test subjects they have locked in the basement. What do you want me to do, Cap?”

“Go after the test subjects, Hawkeye,” Steve grunts, sounding out of breath. “I’ll send Barnes after the scientist.”

“Copy,” Clint mutters, “Three scientists, minimal armour and weapons. One soldier, likely unable to feel pain, armed with several grenades, knives, and a big ass gun. They’re heading towards the underground garage, probably going to try and escape.”

“Copy,” Bucky says. “ETA 5 minutes.”

“Understood,” Clint acknowledges, and no matter how much he wants to stay and help Bucky, he listens to Steve and takes off, following the other soldier into the depths of the base. He manages to remain unseen right up until the soldier gets to where he’s going, and then he catches a glimpse of Clint ducking out of sight in the steel door.

“Hey! How’d you get down here?” The soldier shouts, whirling around and raising his gun.

“Aw, door, no,” Clint mutters, and with a flick of his wrist, there’s a knife lodged in the guard's wrist. As expected, it does nothing and Clint sighs, resigning himself to getting beat to shit as he tries to incapacitate this guy. 

“I’m gonna rip your arm off and use it to bash your skull in,” Soldier #2 snarls. 

“Original,” Clint snorts, dodging the first blow. There’s no time for snarky quips after that, unfortunately, as this soldier is... _ mildly _ competent and Clint has to work slightly harder than he usually does to avoid being pummeled. Eventually, though, he manages to break both the guy’s arms and legs and uses his fingerprint to open the door. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Soldier #2 swears, trying to push himself forward on his broken limbs. 

“Good luck with that,” Clint says, bringing his bow down on the back of Soldier #2’s skull and knocking him unconscious. “Alright, what do we have here?” He enters the lab, not really sure what he’s going to find. 

“Hawkeye, report,” Steve’s voice comes over comms. 

“Made it to the lab okay, took out the guard,” Clint says, rifling through some papers. “Haven’t found the test subjects yet, gonna keep looking until I do - are you fucking kidding me?”

“Report!” 

“These motherfuckers were experimenting on _ dogs_,” Clint snarls, “Let me -”

“No, Hawkeye,” Steve cuts him off, “Whatever incredibly violent thing you were about to suggest you do to the guard, my answer is no.” Clint doesn’t respond. “Hawkeye, answer me.”

“Yeah, I got it, Cap,” Clint says, “No doing the incredibly violent thing. But if my boot _ accidentally _ hits him in the head as I walk past him after heroically saving these dogs, then that’s not my fault.”

Steve sighs. “You’re going to do it no matter what I say, aren’t you.”

“Yup.” Clint proceeds to do exactly that, lifting the two dogs out of their cages - they’re just fucking puppies! He is _ so _ burning this place to the ground after he’s out. And oh, look at that - his steel-tipped boots _ accidentally _ hit the guard in the face (twice) as he walks by, knocking out some teeth. “I hope you choke on your own blood, you piece of shit,” Clint snarls. 

The smaller puppy barks in agreement and Clint snorts. “Cap, I retrieved the test subjects and am heading to extraction point now.”

“Affirmative, Hawkeye,” Steve says. “See you there.” 

Clint jogs his way out of the compound and heads towards the jet, cradling the puppies in his arms. “How did you manage to find puppies in the middle of this place?” Bruce asks, shaking his head as Clint jogs onboard the jet.

“Not my fault,” Clint protests. “They were being experimented on, I had to rescue them.”

“I’m honestly not even surprised Hydra was experimenting on animals,” Bruce sneers, taking one of the dogs from Clint. “I’ll do a check-up the best I can, but I’m not a veterinarian.”

“I know, I’ll get them to a vet as soon as we get back to the Tower,” Clint says. Looking up, he spots Tony and Steve walking back onto the jet, Tasha following them on a few minutes later. “Where’s Bucky?”

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it, brow furrowed. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been on comms in a while.”

“Barnes, report,” Clint says, an edge in his voice. There’s nothing but static in his ear, so he tries again. “Bucky, talk to me. Where are you?” No response. “I’m going to look for him,” Clint says, passing the other dog to Steve and heading towards the jet.

“It should be me,” Steve says, grabbing Clint’s arm.

“If Hydra’s already got one super-soldier, they’re not getting another,” Clint grits out. “And no offence, Cap, but you ain’t exactly stealthy.”

“I can be quiet if I want to be,” Steve protests. Tony snorts. 

“The last time you were quiet was when I locked you in a soundproof room because you kept lecturing me,” Tony says flatly. “Let Legolas go, he’s the superspy.”

“Fine,” Steve mutters, “But keep us in the loop.”

Clint salutes him and jogs off the jet, forcing himself to calm down as he gets closer to the now silent compound. “Soldier, if you can hear me, this is Hawkeye. I’m coming in the southeast entrance. Rendezvous in the centre of the compound,” Clint says over comms. Bucky will know when he hears Clint call him ‘Soldier’ that Clint’s doing no such thing - he’s not going to broadcast his movements over open-air channels, he’s not a fucking moron.

If someone has Bucky, though - they won’t know that Clint’s lying, and he can use that to his advantage. He makes his way through the eerily silent compound, coming across the corpses of several painless soldiers who would rather die than surrender. When he gets to the centre of the compound, the big room that he first saw the scientist in, he scrambles up to the catwalk again, finding a place that’s hidden from below, should someone look up.

But no one ever looks up. 

He’s only been waiting for a few minutes when the door on the other end of the room opens silently and two shadows slip through. They’re good, he almost misses them - but he’s better. Slowing his breathing, Clint watches them make a methodical sweep of the room, never once even glancing at his hiding spot. Amateurs.

“He’s not here,” Shadow #1 says in a gruff voice. 

“It’s only been a few minutes since he made the call,” Shadow #2 points out. “We should wait and see if he shows up. A super-soldier and an Avenger, the boss’ll be pleased.”

“Not if we end up dead,” Shadow #1 grumbles.

“Soldier, we’ve been told to retreat,” Clint says, keeping his voice quiet enough that the two Hydra goons will only be able to hear him over comms. “Rendezvous at Extraction Point Delta at 1900 hours. Hawkeye, over and out.” As if on cue, the Quinjet engines roar to life and Clint hears the plane take off and the sounds of the engine fade into the distance. 

“Shit,” Shadow #1 complains. “Now we’re gonna get in real trouble.”

Shadow #2 sighs. “Hey, at least we got the Soldier. Not a complete waste of time.”

“We don’t even know if it can still be triggered,” Shadow #1 says. “Maybe the Avengers just made it useless.”

Clint’s bow creaks under his grip, and he forces his hands to relax. “Doubt it,” Shadow #2 says, “Why waste a perfectly good weapon? Besides, there’s no one in the world that can erase that conditioning.”

Clint smirks. Yeah, no one except Princess Shuri of Wakanda, you sack of shit. He follows the two goons through the compound, and eventually they come to a dead-end corridor. Shadow #1 punches in a passcode and the wall slides open, both of them disappearing through it. Clint barely manages to pass through before the wall closes behind him, nearly snapping his bow in half in the process. “Cap, do you read me,” Clint murmurs near-silently, edging along walls as he trails the two guards deeper and deeper. There’s no answer, just static, and Clint bites back a curse. Must be blocking it somehow.

“You two get anything out there?” A third goon asks.

Shadow #2 shakes his head. “Nah, they were ordered to retreat. Told the Asset to meet them at Rendezvous Point Delta, wherever that is.”

“We’ll find out,” Goon #3 says simply. “I doubt the Asset will be able to deny us anything after it’s been reconditioned.”

Clint snarls silently. Not on his watch. Never on his watch. The three Hydra fuckwits stand there gossiping for a few more minutes, and eventually Clint gets tired of watching them. He slips around a corner and crawls into the ventilation system, wriggling through it on his belly until he comes to a vent cover that looks into a laboratory. Directly underneath him is Bucky, shirtless and strapped to a table.

Clint’s heart drops at the vacant look in Bucky’s eyes, and he’s terrified that Bucky’s already been wiped - but then he bumps his nose against the vent cover and curses quietly, and Bucky twitches. “If you can hear me, blink twice,” Clint breathes. Bucky blinks twice. “One for yes, two for no,” he continues. “Are you alone right now?”

_ Blink. Blink. _

“Can you get yourself free?”

_ Blink. Blink. _

Clint swears. “Did they do something to the arm? Drug you?”

_ Blink. _ A pause, and then another blink. 

Clint swears again. “I’m getting you out of here, Buck, I swear.” 

_ Blink_.

Clint freezes as another person comes into view, leaning over Bucky’s naked torso and blocking him from view. “I don’t think the drugs have fully kicked in yet or he’d be out by now,” the person says to whoever else is in the room, fiddling with something near Bucky’s arm.

“Super-soldier metabolism is no joke,” a second voice says, moving louder. “Give him a higher dosage.”

“It could have some serious negative effects -” Fucko #1 protests.

“Do I look like I care?” Fucko #2 snarls, “He’ll heal.” This second part is said in a dismissive tone, like it doesn’t matter what happens to Bucky. Clint’s hand clenches so hard on his bow that it audibly creaks in his grasp. He forces himself to relax, drawing in one long breath through his nose and blowing it out silently. 

When he looks down again, both Fucko #1 and Fucko #2 are out of view, and Bucky’s looking up at him, a glitter of amusement in his eye. “Yeah, yeah,” Clint grumbles, “So I’m a little protective of you. Rib me for it once we get out of here.” 

_ Blink_.

“Smartass.” Clint listens for a minute but he can’t detect any noise that means there’s someone else in the room with Bucky. “You alone now?”

_ Blink. _

Silently, Clint eases open the vent cover and drops down, landing beside the lab table and immediately getting to work on getting Bucky out of there. The first thing he does is remove the IV line in Bucky’s elbow, dropping it to the floor and crushing it underneath his boot. “Remind me to have Tony surgically attach us after this,” he mutters, getting one of Bucky’s arms free. 

Bucky doesn’t say anything and when Clint looks up to check on him, he’s met with Bucky staring at him, head tilted assessingly. “You came for me,” he says hoarsely, sounding shocked. 

“Course I did,” Clint says, getting Bucky’s other arm free and starting on the restraints around his ankles. “We still gotta have that talk.”

Something flashes through Bucky’s eyes too quickly for Clint to get a read on it, but it’s forgotten as soon as Bucky sits up from the table. Clint pulls an arm over his shoulder and starts to head to the door, but Bucky shakes his head and tugs him towards a metal cabinet against another wall. “They took samples,” he says, “Gotta destroy them.”

“Right.” Clint props Bucky up against a table and opens the cabinet, looking over the contents inside. They have literally every possible container to hold every possible sample, but only a few of them are sealed shut. Clint grabs those ones and tucks them into his belt, then slides an explosive arrowhead into the back of the cabinet, hiding it behind a container labelled [BONE SAMPLE #1]. “Merry fucking Christmas,” he mutters. 

Bucky snorts. “It’s September.”

“Happy fucking Labour Day then, Christ,” Clint rolls his eyes. “I saved your life, I think you can cut me a little slack here.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says thoughtfully, “Yeah, you did.”

Clint pulls him upright again and starts towards the door. “I’ll get you a gun soon as I can, but for now we just gotta try and not be seen.” He pulls open the door and is met with two Hydra guards, staring at him. “Hi fellas,” he says, and then his fist and Bucky’s free hand land directly on their noses, knocking them out cold.

Clint kicks their unconscious bodies for good measure as they pass, snagging a gun from the one Bucky knocked out. “Here you go, princess,” he says, presenting it to Bucky, who glares at him. “What? Aren’t I the dashing knight saving you from the many-headed dragon keeping you captive?”

“Ain’t there usually a kiss somewhere in that story?” Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow. He raises his gun and fires twice, hitting two guards. They move past the downed guards, heading towards the wall where Clint came into this place. 

Clint shrugs. “I figure we can, y’know, get there at our own pace.” He avoids Bucky’s gaze, choosing instead to check around a corner, ducking back almost immediately as bullets start flying. “We’ve got company.”

“Hadn’t noticed,” Bucky says dryly. 

“Does anyone copy?” Clint says over comms, frustrated when he still hears nothing but static. “Nothing.” He nocks a couple arrows, sticks his head around the corner and fires them, the satisfying thump of bodies hitting the floor making him smirk. 

“Showoff,” Bucky mutters. He fires again, downing the last gunman. “C’mon, I wanna get out of here.”

“You and me both,” Clint agrees, helping Bucky forward. He’s walking more steadily now, whatever drugs they gave him must be wearing off, but he’s still a little woozy so Clint sticks close. Out of pure professional desire to get Bucky out of there, of course. 

“So, tell me,” Bucky starts, “How badly did I fuck up this mission?”

“Uh,” Clint blinks, “Not at all? You getting captured isn’t your fault, Bucky.”

“I shoulda heard them coming,” Bucky disagrees. 

“Sure, and I shoulda stayed up top to give you backup,” Clint shrugs. “There’s plenty of blame to go around, pal, don’t you be hogging it all to yourself.”

Bucky snorts, shaking his head, and they finally arrive at the wall that Clint is pretty sure - like 90% - is the one he came in through. “You sure this is our way out of here?” Bucky asks skeptically. “Looks like a wall to me.”

“Ye of little faith,” Clint grumbles, noticing a patch on the wall that looks a little discoloured.

“Clint,” Bucky says.

“Mmm?” Clint runs his fingers over the patch of discoloured wall, pressing down when he feels a bump and hearing a _ click_. The wall starts to slide open and then -

“Clint!” Bucky’s voice sounds urgent and when Clint looks up, he sees two guards advancing on them despite Bucky’s raised gun. 

“Aw, competence, no,” Clint murmurs, then he nocks two arrows and fires, hitting both guards in the left thigh and causing them to fall from the ground. “C’mon, time to go.” He shoves Bucky through the opening in the wall then jams an EMP arrow into it, detonating it when he’s safely around the next corner.

The door freezes, still open but not enough for anyone to get through and the smugness Clint feels is immediately turned to concern when he hears Bucky grunt from beside him. 

“Did you just EMP the door?” Bucky asks, listing to one side.

“Yeah, I figured since your arm was offline it couldn’t hurt,” Clint says. “Don’t tell me your arm came back online and now it’s gone again.”

“A plus deduction skills, Holmes,” Bucky says dryly. Clint switches sides, heaving Bucky’s metal arm over his shoulders and pulling him along.

“You’re the one who didn’t say anything,” Clint argues.

They’re cut off from any further arguing when Steve’s voice abruptly cuts in over comms. “- ting nothing from Hawkeye or Barnes. Widow, Iron Man, go in around the back and start searching. Let me know if you find anything. I’ll take front entrance.”

“Aw, you guys are comin’ to look for us?” Clint coos. “So sweet, but there’s no need. I found Barnes and we’re heading out.”

“Thank God,” Steve says, relief clear. “How is he?”

“Still Barnes, if that’s what you’re asking,” Clint says. “They didn’t do anything to him that a little TLC can’t fix. We’re in the centre of the compound now, ETA ten minutes to you.”

“Copy,” Steve says. Comms fall silent as Clint leads Bucky out, metal arm still slung over his shoulders. 

“So, how much is he going to mother hen me when this is all over?” Bucky asks dryly.

“Nowhere near as much as I’m going to,” Clint answers cheerfully.

“Oh, fuck you,” Bucky says flatly. Clint snorts and opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, there’s a loud explosion and the catwalk underneath them starts to collapse. Their eyes lock and as one, they start to run. The drugs aren’t fully out of Bucky’s system though, and he’s lagging behind until Clint slows down to grab him and drag him forward.

“C’mon, Buck, you gotta work with me here,” Clint pleads over his shoulder, ignoring Steve’s increasingly frantic shouts over the comms for them to check-in. 

“Doing my -” Bucky cuts himself off with a shout as the catwalk collapses beneath him and he starts to fall. There’s a split second where Clint’s frozen with shock, but then he throws himself off the catwalk after Bucky, nearly hitting the other man in the face with his bow as he struggles to get a grip on Bucky. Finally, after what feels like years of struggling, Clint’s arm locks into its hold around Bucky’s neck just as Bucky’s metal arm does the same to him. 

Clint looses a breath as soon as he’s sure they aren’t going to fall to their deaths and turns his head slightly, coming nose-to-nose with Bucky. “You really need to stop falling off things,” he says breathlessly. 

Bucky snorts. “Too soon,” he says weakly. They press their foreheads together and breathe each other’s air for a while, until Steve’s shouts get too loud for Clint to ignore. 

“Barton, I swear to Christ if you do not report in right this goddamn minute, I will pour all your coffee down the fucking toilet and make you watch when I do it!” Steve shouts, voice shaking.

“Cruel and unusual punishment, Cap,” Clint grunts, starting to feel the strain of holding up a two-hundred-forty pound supersoldier with just one arm. “We’re both fine, could use some assistance though. That explosion made our exit a little tricky.”

“Iron Man and I are on our way to you,” Steve says. “And Clint?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fucking move.”

Clint snorts. “Sir, yes, sir.” 

“They coming to get us?” Asks Bucky. Clint nods. “Clint.”

“Yes, dear?”

“That wouldn’t have happened to be the little Labour Day surprise you left back in the lab that caused that explosion, would it?”

Clint winces. “There is a strong possibility it was, yes.”

“You’re an idiot,” Bucky snorts, shaking his head. 

“Please don’t tell the team, they’ll never let me live it down,” Clint pleads.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “What’s in it for me?”

Clint shrugs the best he can in their current situation. “I dunno, what do you want? I’ll pretty much do anything for you, just so you know.”

“We really need to have that talk,” Bucky says softly. 

“Yeah,” Clint agrees, “Maybe not when we’re mere inches away from falling to our deaths, though?”

“I’m gonna have to agree with Clint on that one,” Steve’s voice says from above them. “How you boys doing?”

“Oh, you know,” Clint shrugs. “Just hanging around.” There’s a series of groans from everyone and a loud _ clank _ as Tony touches down in the suit. 

“Changed my mind, Cap, we should just let them fall,” Tony says, crossing his arms. 

“Yes, please, put me out of my misery,” Bucky groans. 

Clint huffs. “You guys are mean,” he whines. “No one understands my humour.”

“We all understand it, Clint,” Steve says as he’s hauling them up. “You’re just not funny.” He pulls them over the edge and back to relative safety, letting them fall from his grasp once they reach a more stable part of the catwalk.

Clint drops to the ground dramatically. “You wound me, Steve, I thought we were friends.”

“I was raised not to lie to my friends,” Steve says mildly, standing over them with his arms crossed and an amused look on his face. 

“I wasn’t,” Tony says, then he turns to Clint. “You’re hilarious, Legolas.”

“At least someone loves me enough to lie to me,” Clint grumbles, forcing himself to stand up. “Can we go now? I have coffee and blankets waiting for me back at the Tower and it’s rude to keep your date waiting.”

“Since when do you have manners?” Tony says in mock surprise. Clint would shove him, but he’d only hurt himself on the suit.

“Since forever, asshole,” he grumbles. 

“C’mon guys, leave him alone,” Bucky says, “He’s had a very long day, rescuing me from distress.”

“_T__hank _ you,” Clint says, pointing at Bucky. “Someone gets it.”

“Yeah, a very long day hanging off catwalks that only broke because he left an explosive arrowhead in the lab back there,” Bucky continues. 

Clint slumps as Steve whirls on him. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

“Sorry sweetheart,” Bucky shrugs.

“You did _ what_?!” Steve says loudly. 

“In my defense, I left the arrowhead in a cabinet full of containers that were gonna be full of Bucky samples,” Clint protests. “I feel like it’s justified! Not to mention that the only way they could have activated the arrowhead is if they banged it against a hard surface! They detonate on impact!”

“That is... slightly less stupid,” Steve allows. They step out of the still-smoking building and head towards the Quinjet.

“I will _ take _ it,” Clint declares, heading towards the cockpit. “Everyone hurry up and get strapped in, I wanna take off my pants and _ someone _ -” he glares at Natasha, “- made a rule against me doing that in common spaces.”

“I support that rule,” Tony says immediately. Bruce and Steve nod in agreement and Tasha just looks smug. 

“Mean,” Clint mutters under his breath, slumping into the pilot’s seat. “I am unloved.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Bucky drawls, plopping down in the seat next to him. Clint grunts at him and fires up the jet, comfortable sitting in silence with Bucky. They take off and manage to make it about halfway back to the Tower before Bucky speaks. “Meet me in my rooms after debrief? I think you owe me a talk.”

“You know Steve’s going to make you go to medical right? And Hill’s debriefing, so that’ll take at least a few hours,” Clint points out. 

Bucky groans. “You’ll probably be done sooner than me,” he agrees. “Meet in your rooms instead? Once I’m done?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Clint nods. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

“This thing doesn’t have autopilot?” Bucky asks, looking around. 

“It does, but I like flying it myself after a mission,” Clint answers. “Grounds me.” Bucky nods, and they pass the rest of the ride in silence, both of them far too tired to initiate any conversation. When they arrive back at the Tower, Steve whisks Bucky away to medical, just like Clint predicted. Bucky rolls his eyes at Clint right before the elevator doors close and Clint snorts. 

“You two seem to be getting along nicely,” Tasha says, appearing at Clint’s side.

“We talked,” Clint answers, “A little.”

“Not enough,” Tasha says. 

“No,” Clint agrees, “Not enough.” She puts her hand on his cheek briefly, then vanishes to do whatever it is Natasha does after a mission. Eat souls, probably. Clint’s never asked. He’s not entirely sure he wants to know. He stretches his arms, grimacing at the cracking noise his shoulders make, then heads over to the locker room to stash his gear. 

“Debrief in 20,” Steve says from beside him, stowing the suit in his locker. 

“Can’t it wait?” Clint whines. “I had a very stressful day and -” He stops talking at the look on Steve’s face. “Yeah, I didn’t think that would work either. Worth a shot.” He finishes putting away his suit and heads to the showers, giving himself the barest of scrubs, just enough to get most of the dirt and dust off his skin before towelling off, getting dressed and heading up to Hill’s office for debrief.

~~

Two hours later, Clint’s finally back in his rooms. He flops onto his bed with a groan, allowing himself five minutes of mindless staring at the wall before dragging his sore and aching body into the shower. He sets his aids by the sink, turns the water up as hot as JARVIS has deemed it safe to go, and watches the water swirl around his feet, dirt and dust and grime turning it grey. 

He stays under the glorious hot stream of water until the water coming off of him is clear and then he starts to actually wash himself. His shampoo smells like some sort of fruit, and he realizes, belatedly, that Tasha must have switched it again. His normal stuff is probably in the trash again and he heaves a sigh, resigning himself to smelling like a - berry blast, according to the bottle’s description that he has to squint to be able to read.

Once he’s out of the shower, he barely manages to pull on some underwear before crashing on his bed, the day catching up with him. “J, let Bucky in when he gets here, alright? I might still be asleep.” 

He doesn’t hear JARVIS’ response as his eyes slip closed, and it feels like mere moments later that there’s a hand carding through his hair gently, bringing him back into the world. He can tell by the unyielding coolness of the fingers in his hair that it’s Bucky’s metal hand, which is probably why he doesn’t panic.

He rolls over and lands on something soft - Bucky’s leg, judging by the flinch when he lands on it. He shoves his face into it and groans, the sound muffled by the sweatpants Bucky’s wearing. Bucky shakes with laughter as he tugs lightly at Clint’s hair, holding out his aids to him when Clint lifts his head blearily. Clint puts them in and slumps back onto Bucky’s thigh.

“You need some coffee?” Bucky asks gently. Clint can hear the laughter in his voice, the fucker, but he nods anyway, swallowing the whine that tries to escape when Bucky gets up and pads out of his room. Clint can hear him moving around in his kitchen and the rush of fondness that threatens to overtake him makes him roll onto his back and take a deep breath, staring at the ceiling. Once he’s got his stupid feelings under control, he sits up and stretches, groaning in relief as his back cracks. 

An intake of breath from the doorway catches his attention and he looks over to see Bucky, holding a mug of coffee in his hand with an expression on his face that Clint can’t read. Clint makes grabby hands at the mug, still not able to form words, and Bucky brings it to him with a fond smile. “Fuck, this is delicious,” Clint moans after the first sip. “What did you do?”

“I cleaned the filter,” Bucky snorts, “You know you’re supposed to actually do that, right?”

Clint shrugs. “That’s why I keep you around, Buck.” He chances a look at Bucky to see the other man staring at him, that unreadable expression on his face again. Bucky reaches out and takes Clint’s mug from him setting it on the side table, then turns to face him again. “What -” Clint’s cut off by Bucky leaning forward and pressing his lips to Clint’s gently, barely even there before he’s gone again, looking at Clint and raising an eyebrow. “Please do that again,” Clint blurts. 

A grin breaks out over Bucky’s face, taking Clint’s breath away. Bucky leans in again, kissing him gently, and it’s only when Clint shifts forward trying to get closer and he can’t help his grimace as his ribs ache at the stretch that they stop and Bucky pulls back. “Ribs?” He asks sympathetically. 

Clint nods. “But I wanna keep going,” he insists, leaning forward again. Bucky snorts and gently pushes him back on the bed, ignoring Clint’s pout in favour of stripping off his shirt and climbing in next to him. 

“I don’t want you to get more hurt,” Bucky says softly, pulling Clint into his arms, “And we can talk like this just fine.”

“Right,” Clint mutters, sinking into Bucky’s grasp, “Talking.”

“Guess I’ll start, then,” Bucky says, amused. “I like you, Clint, have for a while. At first, I didn’t make a move because I wasn’t sure the feelings were mutual, and then I didn’t make a move - well, because I was scared, I guess. You could have anyone, why would you want me?”

Clint pushes his way out of Bucky’s grasp and turns to face him, grabbing Bucky’s face in his hands. “You listen here, Bucky Barnes. If either of us could have anyone, it would be you. You’re a superhot super-soldier with a badass metal arm and thighs that could crush a man. I’m a mostly-deaf ex-carnie who didn’t graduate high school and is always more bruised than not. Trust me when I say that it’s you who could have anyone.”

“How ‘bout we just agree that we both have self-esteem issues and go from there?” Bucky asks with a grin, his voice slightly garbled due to Clint’s hands still on his cheeks, squishing them slightly.

“I can live with that,” Clint says sheepishly, letting go of Bucky’s face. Bucky passes him his mug and Clint drinks from it happily, snuggling up to Bucky and enjoying the heat he puts off. 

“So,” Bucky starts hesitantly, “What does this mean?”

Clint swallows his mouthful of coffee too fast and spends the next minute trying to get his breath back as Bucky rubs his back, snickering. “You’re mean to me, you know that?” Clint pouts once he’s able to speak again, swinging himself onto Bucky’s lap and straddling him. “And, I dunno, boyfriends sounds good to me.”

“Boyfriends,” Bucky says thoughtfully, settling his hands on Clint’s hips. “I like that.”

“I like you,” Clint says cheesily, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Bucky’s mouth. Before he can pull away, Bucky’s hand comes up and cups the back of his neck, keeping him there. They kiss for a while, just enjoying and getting used to the feel and taste of each other. It’s only when Clint shifts slightly, rolling his hips over Bucky’s as he attempts to get more comfortable on top of him, that he feels how hard Bucky is. 

“Clint,” Bucky starts as Clint gasps, breaking off into a moan as Clint rolls his hips again, the contact sending sparks up his spine. “Isn’t this moving a little fast?”

Clint stops moving and looks at Bucky seriously. “If you want to stop, we will, but we can move at whatever pace we want to move at. It’s no one’s business but ours.”

Bucky grins up at him, slightly flushed and leans up to kiss him. “Stop? I don’t want to stop,” he says, nudging Clint over until he’s laying back on the bed and then climbing on top of him so their positions are reversed. “I just wanted to make sure _ you _ didn’t want to stop.”

“Nope, definitely do not want to stop,” Clint breathes as Bucky pulls his hair out of the bun it was in and shakes it out. Clint wants to run his fingers through it, and with a flash of happiness he realizes now that he can. So he does. Clint reaches up and runs a hand through Bucky’s hair, wincing when his fingers get caught on a tangle. He opens his mouth to apologize as he’s tugging his hands out of Bucky’s hair but is cut off by a near-silent moan. 

“Fuck, how did you _ know_?” Bucky groans, pushing his head into Clint’s hand.

“Honest mistake,” Clint admits, grinning. “Guess that means I shouldn’t stop?”

“_Fuck _ no,” Bucky says, rolling his hips again. They both groan at the friction again and Clint’s hand tightens involuntarily in Bucky’s hair. “Rutting in our pants is great and all,” Bucky pants, “But I’d really like to get a look at that dick of yours because I’ve been drooling over it for months.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” Clint says, scrambling to yank off his underwear. Bucky snorts, lifting himself up so Clint can pull his underwear down his legs and toss them somewhere, then pulls off his own pants, revealing that he’s going commando underneath. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna kill me here,” Clint groans.

“Hopefully not before you fuck me, sugar,” Bucky responds bluntly. “Lube and condoms?”

Clint nods towards the side table, sucking in a breath as Bucky leans over to grab them, brushing the tip of Clint’s dick with his stomach as he does. “Tease,” Clint bites out.

“‘S’only a tease if I don’t plan on following through, sugar,” Bucky smirks, ripping open the condom wrapper and rolling it over Clint’s length. Clint hisses at the friction, small as it is, then groans as Bucky slicks up his fingers and reaches behind him. He plants one hand on Clint’s abdomen and arches his back, eyes fluttering shut as he starts to open himself up. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” Clint says, breathless at the sight of the pleasure on Bucky’s face. 

Bucky flushes. “You’re one to talk,” he mutters. Clint leans up and kisses him, muffling the shocked gasp Bucky lets out as their lips meet. Clint reaches around, still kissing Bucky, and gets his hand right in close to Bucky’s, feeling that he’s already two fingers deep. 

“Almost there, darlin’,” Clint encourages quietly, muttering it into Bucky’s mouth. 

“One or two more, d’you think?” Bucky asks.

Clint looks down at himself, then back up at Bucky. Feeling slightly smug, he says, “Should go two, babe, seein’ as how it’s our first time.”

“You’re a smug bastard, you know that?” Bucky gasps, adding another finger. Clint snorts against his collarbone, sucking a bruise into it. 

“You tellin’ me I don’t got reason to be a little smug?” Clint sucks a matching bruise into Bucky’s other collarbone, enjoying the sounds he’s pulling out of Bucky.

“I dunno, seein’ as how it ain’t _ in me _ yet,” Bucky growls. The effect is ruined by Clint nipping at his pulse, making him squeak halfway through the sentence.

“You get yourself all stretched for me, darlin’?” Clint asks, prodding at Bucky’s hole again. “Get that pretty little hole all open for my cock?”

Bucky gasps and jerks on Clint’s lap. “Christ, Barton, if I knew you talked like this in bed, I woulda made a move a long time ago.”

“You like my dirty mouth?” Clint says, stretching up until his jaw is level with Bucky’s ear and lowering his voice to a husky rasp. “Wonder if I could make you come just with my voice, hm? What do you think, sweetheart?”

Bucky groans as Clint gently pulls his fingers out of his hole. “Not - _ fuck _ \- not this time, please, Clint, just get in me.”

“Your wish is my command,” Clint says as he lines himself up. Bucky sinks down onto him slowly, mouth dropping open at the stretch. Clint groans, his hands white-knuckling the sheets as he forces himself to stay still. “Take your time, sweetpea, we got nowhere to be.”

Bucky stops about halfway down, thighs trembling with the effort to keep himself steady. “I’m okay,” he pants, seeing the worry on Clint’s face, “You’re just... You just _ definitely _ have a reason to be smug.”

Clint holds in the snort he wants to make at that and smiles up at Bucky, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. “Glad you think so, sugar.” Bucky steadies himself with a hand on Clint’s shoulder and slides the rest of the way down, half-sobbing when he’s flush against Clint’s thighs.

“Fuck, Clint, you’re massive,” he groans, screwing his eyes shut. “Feels like I’m being split in two.”

“You just -” Clint clears his throat. “You just let me know when you’re ready, Buck, take all the time you need.” He runs his hands up and down Bucky’s sides soothingly, waiting until Bucky’s ready to move. 

“Okay, I think,” Bucky starts, rolling his hips slightly, “Oh fuck, you feel amazing.”

“Am I good to move, baby?” Clint checks, just to be sure.

“Yes, fuck, anything Clint, just _ move_,” Bucky bites out, grinding down on Clint’s dick. 

Clint sits up straight, pulling Bucky flush with his chest and thrusting up into him. Bucky moans at the movement, and Clint adjusts his angle a few times before Bucky cries out and scratches lines down his back as Clint hits his prostate. “Found it,” Clint mutters smugly, and he stays at that angle as he fucks Bucky. He keeps his thrusts slow and deep, more of a filthy grind than anything else, and before long Bucky’s writhing on top of him, flushed and sweaty and near tears.

“Clint, baby, please,” Bucky babbles, “Make me come, wanna come with you, for you, please!”

In that moment, with Bucky on his lap begging Clint to let him come as he’s being split open on Clint’s cock, Clint finds himself thinking that he’ll never deny Bucky anything, not ever. So, of course, he wraps a hand around Bucky’s leaking cock and jacks it steadily, murmuring filth into Bucky’s ear all the while. “You take me so well, honey, so good for me, letting me see you like this.”

“Fuck, Clint, I’m gonna -” Bucky cries, grabbing one of Clint’s hands, entwining their fingers and directing it up to his hair. Clint tangles his fingers in Bucky’s hair and pulls his head down so he can kiss him as he comes, and that’s the last straw - Bucky comes with a muffled groan into Clint’s mouth, ropes of his come smearing across their chests. 

Clint fucks him through it, swallowing Bucky’s moans and cries with kisses. He stops thrusting when Bucky slumps, spent, into him, forehead on Clint’s shoulder. “You okay, baby?” He asks.

Bucky grunts at him. “Keep going,” he mutters. 

“What?”

“You didn’t come,” Bucky says, “Keep going.”

“If you’re sure,” Clint says. Bucky nods. “You just say pizza if it’s too much, okay?”

“You pick weird fuckin’ safewords,” Bucky mutters. “Yeah, alright. Pizza if it’s too much.” Clint starts to thrust into Bucky again, this time completely chasing his own pleasure. Bucky squirms on his lap, sobbing into his shoulder from the overstimulation, but Clint holds him still and keep pistoning his hips into Bucky, watching the mix of pleasure and pain dance across Bucky’s face. 

“Fuck, Bucky, you feel so good, I’m -” Clint comes with a shout, nearly whiting out with the force of his orgasm. His hips jerk unconsciously, prolonging his orgasm until finally, he finishes and slumps back onto the bed. “Damn,” he grunts. 

“Mmm,” Bucky says, snuggling closer. “Comfy.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Clint says, lifting Bucky off of him with a grimace. “I’m sorry, gotta clean up and I’ll be right back, alright?”

“Hurry,” Bucky yawns, “Tired.” Clint pulls off the condom and ties it off, then dumps it in the washroom garbage when he goes to grab a cloth to wipe Bucky’s come off their chests. He almost spends too much time cleaning Bucky off, a little thrill going through him when Bucky hisses as Clint wipes at his nipples but makes no move to push him away, just squirms in place when he’s done. “C’mere,” Bucky says, making grabby hands at him. 

“I’m here, honey,” Clint says, sliding into bed next to his boyfriend and wrapping his arms around him. 

“That was nice,” Bucky says, yawning again. “Should do it again. Soon.”

“Greedy,” Clint teases. 

“I got a hot as shit boyfriend who’s nice, funny, good in bed, _ and _ he’s got a dick I’d kill for,” Bucky says, snuggling into Clint’s chest. “Wouldn’t you be greedy?”

“I’ve got a boyfriend who’s almost all of those things too,” Clint says thoughtfully. 

Bucky hums quietly, and then “Almost!” He says, sitting up, outraged. 

Clint laughs. “Yeah, almost,” he says, kissing Bucky’s nose. “You haven’t fucked me yet so I can’t make any judgements on your dick game, sweetheart.”

“We gotta rectify that,” Bucky declares. 

“Don’t you mean rect_al_fy that?” Clint snickers. “Hey, ow! Okay, I get it!”

“My boyfriend’s a dork,” Bucky grumbles, rolling his eyes and settling back into bed. 

“Yeah, but I’m _ your _ dork,” Clint insists.

“Yeah,” Bucky nods, “I suppose you are.” He leans up and kisses Clint gently, then helps him take out his aids and rests his head on Clint’s chest. “I’m real glad we had this talk, Clint.”

“Me too, Bucky,” Clint says, watching Bucky’s eyes drift shut, “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic! Thanks to my amazing bro [flowerparrish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish) for beta'ing this fic for me, you're the best bro I could ask for. <3333 And of course, thanks to the amazing mod team over at the Marvel RBB for hosting this incredible event, it was a lot of fun and I look forward to participating again! 
> 
> Hawkie's links: [tumblr](https://hawksonfire.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/hawks_on_fire)
> 
> Misha's links: [tumblr](https://quicksillver.tumblr.com/)


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